


Traveler

by Endofwave



Series: Faronclan AU [2]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter, linked universe au - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endofwave/pseuds/Endofwave
Summary: "I’ve never needed one. ‘Traveler,’ ‘stranger,’ ‘outsider…’ whatever cats feel like calling me, really. I don't call myself anything- it’s never mattered.”
Series: Faronclan AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852108
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Traveler

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written fic properly in almost a year but I cranked this out in like three hours because I'm absolutely addicted to this AU. This was supposed to be me finalizing Hartfoot's backstory, but it turned into this and I can't be mad about it. 
> 
> If you want to know more about the AU or just talk battlecats with us, let me know and I'll get you a server invite!

“Don’t come any closer!”

The brown loner freezes.

Harestep lashes his tail once, fur rising along his spine. “This is Faronclan territory. You’re almost on the border, so don’t come any closer. Get lost.”

“I’m just a traveler,” says the loner, standing carefully still. “I don’t mean any harm. I’m just passing through.”

“Don’t care.” Harestep jerks his head to the north. “Go around.”

The loner follows his gaze, clearly lost. That’s fair, actually; the far border doesn’t follow any landmark, and the idea of a concrete ‘territory’ tends to confuse most wandering loners anyways. The brown tom looks back at him warily. “Where does your border end?” 

“Go that way- you’ll find a human road eventually.” The loner does a poor job of trying to hide his dismay. Harestep sympathizes. If he can avoid it, he doesn’t like going near anything human at all. He sympathizes, but the Clan comes first. “There’s a creek that runs beside it. That’s the border.” 

The loner glances over the Harestep’s shoulder at the forest beyond, and then fixes him with a considering stare. Weighing his odds of getting past him, probably. The loner’s fur is disheveled and he’s clearly exhausted; he’d be a fool to try and fight.

Harestep’s tail lashes again. “Don’t try it,” he hisses. “You see how long my legs are? Not a chance. Besides,” he adds dismissively, “going straight through our territory would just land you in the Twolegplace eventually.”

The loner visibly shivers. The threat of the Twolegplace works very well as a deterrent, apparently. He dips his head. “I’ll be on my way then,” he says wearily.

Harestep flicks an ear. “Excellent. Good hunting.”

“...Good hunting.” The loner turns his head north, then huffs out a soft sigh and hardens his gaze.

He makes it all of three steps before his right hindleg buckles.

The loner lets out a choked hiss of pain and steps forward again, clearly trying to brush over the injury. He makes it less than a fox-length before stopping again, and this time he freezes completely, shooting a fearful glance back at Harestep.

_...And this is why the others call him soft._ Harestep sighs.

“...Alright, wait up.”

“I can still fight,” warns the loner, bristling. Harestep ignores him, stepping over the border and padding up to sniff at his leg. There’s no blood or clear wound, but the swelling is obvious. Sprained or broken. The loner growls again.

“Oh for StarClan’s- I’m not going to fight you,” snaps Harestep, backing off. “And I’m not going to make you walk all the way around the territory on that leg. We have medicine cats back at camp. Come on.”

“I can treat my own wounds,” says the loner shortly.

“Sure,” Harestep says dryly. He doesn’t doubt it, but he’s also spent endless hours scouring the territory with his clanmates, searching for the right plants. You know where to find herbs around here?”

The loner says nothing for a long moment, then looks away, the fight draining out of him and leaving only exhaustion behind. “Fine.”

Harestep nods, satisfied. “Good. Come on, then, um…” He trails off, not having a name to end the sentence with.

The loner just meets his eyes warily. “Call me whatever you want,” he says. “I don’t really care. I don’t call myself anything.”

_ He doesn’t have a  _ name _? _

“...Fine,” He says, after a moment’s complentation. “Come on then, Limpy.”

The loner looks taken aback. “Limpy?”

“You said I could call you whatever I want. All I know about you is that you’ve got a limp, so I’m calling you Limpy.” Harestep flicks an ear. “Problem?”

The brown tom sighs. “No, I- fine. You can just call me Traveler. I’m used to hearing that one.”

“Alright. Come on then, Traveler.” Harestep gestures with his tail and waits for the stranger to start moving forward, keeping him in his line of sight the entire time. When they’re about even with one another, he starts walking in the direction of camp.

Traveler is glancing around nervously, but seems content to do as he’s told and walk in silence. The leg is clearly hurting him- Harestep can see the rigidness of his muscles- but he says nothing. Sighing internally, Harestep makes more of an effort to slow his pace. The loner doesn’t acknowledge him, but relaxes fractionally after a few moments.

“Anyways, I’m Harestep,” he says breezily. “The cat I’m taking you to see is Willowthorn and her apprentice Smokepaw- they’re the clan medicine cats. After that you’ll probably talk to Thicketstar.”

“...Alright. Thank you.” Traveler winces slightly as they clamber over an old fallen tree; he doesn’t ask for help and Harestep doesn’t offer. They walk a few more fox-lengths before he speaks again. 

“Does your whole… your ‘clan,’ do you all have two-part names like that?”

“Weird, right? You get used to it pretty quickly.” Harestep huffs fondly. “I used to just be Hare, but that was before I joined up with this lot.”

“I’ve never been anything.”

“Hm. Well, maybe you should picks something for yourself.”

Traveler doesn’t respond, just inclines his head slightly. It’s just as well, because they’ve reached the last bend in the path before camp. 

“Just act like you belong, we have loners in and out all the time.” With a few paces, Harestep takes the lead. “I’ll take you to the medicine cats’ den, you’ll be fine with them for a bit, but no one here is going to attack you.”

Traveler sighs, glancing back the way they’ve come from. “It’s too late to politely decline again, isn’t it?” he asks, even as he pads forwards.

“Sure is. Come on.” 

Of all the cats that turn to look at them as they enter camp, only the apprentices keep openly staring after a few heartbeats. The others are a bit more subtle about their curiosity, whispering and coordinating to look at the stranger in turns. Harestep rolls his eyes; his clanmates are incredibly sneaky… if the cat they were trying to fool was blind and deaf.

Traveler, for his part, looks terribly nervous to be the center of attention, ears flattened and tail down. “There are a lot of you,” he observes shortly, voice low. 

“Sure are. Just focus on me for now.” Harestep brushes his tail against Traveler’s shoulder, startling the other cat into looking at him. “Come on, Limpy. Herbs are this way.”

He leaves his charge with Willowthorn who, predictably, starts arguing with the newcomer about herbs the moment he speaks up. Behind them, Smokepaw quietly assembles a mix of marigold and daisy leaves. 

Thicketstar is already expecting him when he makes it to the leader’s den.

Harestep doesn’t wait for him to ask. “Found him on the border, warned him off, saw his limp, and brought him back here because  _ apparently _ ,” he says dryly, “I truly do have a penchant for taking in pathetic strays.”

Thicketstar gives a soft, amused purr, and Harestep relaxes. He’s not in trouble, then. “I saw you bring him into camp,” says the leader. “He doesn’t look keen to start a fight here, and I trust your judgement. You certainly did well with Rabbitwhisker,” he adds teasingly. “Does he have a name?”

It’s a hypothetical question, but Harestep has to answer it literally. “I don’t think so, actually. He asked me to call him Traveler, so that’s what I’ve been doing.”

Thicketstar tilts his head slightly, a curious glint in his eye. “I see. Is he planning on staying?”

“I don’t know.”  _ I hope so _ . He looks away.

...He gets attached so, so fast. It never ends well. He should really learn that, sometime.

“I think he’d be a good fit for us,” says another voice. Rushfang pads into the den with a nod to Thicketstar, sitting near the entrance. “He and Willowthorn have been debating herbs since he arrived, and it’s already gotten around camp that he’s come from far away,” he reports. “Duskheart won’t be able to keep Wildpath away from him for much longer.”

“Wildpath was a traveler too,” points out Thicketstar, directing his words to Harestep. “We convinced him to stay.”

“That’s different.”  _ I was one, too _ , says a little voice in the back of his mind. Harestep shakes his head to clear it.

“Hardly,” says Rushfang. The deputy stands and flicks an ear in amusement at Harestep’s glare. “I’m going to take the kits out of camp for a bit, let them work on their tracking skills and take some of the attention off of the traveler. They’re all  _ very _ excited to not be the newest arrivals anymore. On the same note, good luck.”

\---

Wildpath is sitting outside the medicine cat den when Harestep returns. The ginger warrior is kneading the ground excitedly, but perks up even  _ more _ at his approach. “Duskheart told me to wait for you,” he explains to Harestep’s bemused expression. “He said you get to see him before I can.” 

So in other words, Duskheart’s passed the role of ‘Wildpath supervisor’ off to him for the rest of the afternoon. Lovely. What an honor.

Well… If Traveler is going to be convinced to join the clan, perhaps Wildpath  _ is _ the best cat to introduce him to first. “I’m sure it’s fine if we both go in,” he decides, and walks into the den ahead of Wildpath.

(“One at a time, ple- oh, alright,” says Smokepaw tiredly, giving up the moment he sees who Harestep’s companion is.)

Traveler is laying down, leg sticking out awkwardly as the poultice and cobwebs dry into his fur. He’s gazing slowly around the den, expression thoughtful. He glances over when Harestep walks in, but his eyes sharpen warily when Wildpath enters behind him.

“How’s the leg? This is Wildpath,” says Harestep, before Traveler can answer the question. “He used to be a traveler like you, but then he took a nasty spill out of a human car, and now he’s a warrior like me.”

“Hi,” says Wildpath, voice surprisingly mild despite his earlier excitement. Then he asks, “Have you been past the woods over the far human road? I climbed the mountain that you get to on the other side of it, once, when I first got to this area-”

Traveler brightens up immediately. “That mountain with the four trees on the peak? I’ve been way past there, I’m from nearby the mountains that you can see on the horizon from the top of the one you’re talking about-”

“Wow! I’ve never met a cat from that far away, why did you decide to come here?”

“Well, it’s kind of a weird story. See, I started having these dreams…” Harestep stiffens slightly as Traveler trails off, frowning.

“Well,” says Traveler, shaking himself out of the silence that’s growing uncomfortable. “It doesn’t really matter what the dreams were. But when I started heading west, they got clearer and clearer. So I just kept going, and ended up on your border.”

Wildpath tilts his head curiously, glancing at the loner’s injured leg. Traveler looks down at it too.

“Foxhole,” he says glumly. Wildpath nods empathetically.

“You must have met so many interesting cats, traveling all that way” he says enviously. “It’s the one thing I really miss about wandering-” 

“I think that’s enough for now.” Harestep cuts him off, because he didn’t miss the way that Traveler stiffened at the mention of other cats, the way the fur is rising along his back and his eyes widening as if in sudden realization.

Wildpath, surprisingly, doesn’t argue. “It was good to meet you,” he says to Traveler. “May StarClan light your path.” 

Traveler starts. “It- yes, thank you,” he says quietly, looking down at the floor as Wildpath takes his leave, and keeps staring at it with a vacant, conflicted gaze even after he’s left.

Harestep lays down a short distance, tucking his paws under himself, and waits. He doesn’t have to wait long.

“I can’t stay here,” whispers Traveler, and the longing behind his words reminds Harestep achingly of an empty beach and the sound of seagulls.

“I  _ can’t _ ,” he repeats frantically, when Harestep tries to speak. “I- I  _ want _ to. I think I’m  _ supposed _ to. My dreams guided me here for a reason. But- but I can’t,” he says wretchedly, squeezing his eyes shut.

“...Hey, it’s okay,” says Hare, when he’s sure Traveler is done speaking. “The Clan life isn’t for every cat,” he forces himself to say through the hurt, “so I can’t judge you for-”

“You don’t understand.” Traveler meets his eyes desperately. “I  _ want _ to stay. I’m  _ tired _ .”

“...But?”

The loner wilts. “But I… I’m dangerous. It’s dangerous to have me around.”

Harestep hesitates. “No offense, but you don’t exactly-”

“I’m being hunted,” says Traveler quietly, voice heavy with guilt. “I’m putting your entire clan in peril just by staying here. They… They’re never far behind.”

“Well then, where would you go?”

“I’ll just keep moving. Heading west. Maybe that’s all the dreams mean, and I’m not meant to stay anywhere at all.”

“You’ll hit the ocean, eventually,” says Harestep, looking away. “Before that, you’ll have to pass through the small human territory on our border, and then an enormous one past there.”

“I’ll manage it. I’ve always managed.”

Harestep lashes his tail, scraping his claws against the ground. “You don’t  _ have _ to manage,” he hisses, and he feels like he’s looking into a mirror when Traveler refuses to meet his eyes, doubt rolling off of him like waves. “How is what I just told you  _ any _ less dangerous than staying here? This is the safest place you  _ could  _ be.”

Traveler shakes his head stubbornly. “No. They’ll find me. I’d be leading them right to you.”

“So we fight.”

“You- what?” Finally, the loner looks up with something almost like surprise in his eyes. Harestep presses the advantage.

“So we fight. Why do you think we call ourselves warriors?” He lifts his chin. “I won’t stop you from leaving,” he lies- because by StarClan, he really wasn’t joking about strays to Thicketstar earlier, was he- “but if you do, you’re on your own. Stay here, and FaronClan will fight for you, because that’s what you  _ do  _ in a clan. We look out for one other, and, if it comes to it, we fight for our family.”

He doesn’t expect an immediate response and he doesn’t get one; Traveler stares at him wide-eyed, and his expression fills with shock as he realizes that Harestep isn’t lying to him. Harestep lets him process, lets his words sink in. He settles back down and gives him time.

“I… I want to speak to your leader, first,” says Traveler hesitantly, and Harestep wants to leap up, yowling in triumph, and drag him to Thicketstar’s den that very second, but  _ that _ mental image is interrupted by a short growl behind him. 

“ _ I’ll _ go get Thicketstar,” says Smokepaw dryly. “ _ You _ stay off that leg until I say.” 

“I swear that kid hears everything,” mutters Harestep, wrapping his tail around himself. “It’s like he’s got two sets of ears.” Traveler purrs weakly in amusement. 

“So,” he says tentatively. “I’ll need a name, I think.”

“Have you ever had one?”

“No, I don’t think so. But I’ve never needed one. ‘Traveler,’ ‘stranger,’ ‘outsider…’ whatever cats feel like calling me, really. It’s never mattered before now.”

Harestep ponders that. “Well, Limpy won’t do,” he decides, and feels a surge of triumph when Traveler purrs a laugh, this time for real. “Limpfoot, maybe. Foxholeleg. Cobwebfoot.” 

“Those are all awful,” Smokepaw informs him, returning with Thicketstar in tow.

Harestep flicks his tail indifferently. “I’m just getting started. Want me to keep going?”

“No! Get your bad ideas out of my den!”

“Alright, Willowthorn,” teases Harestep. With a nod from Thicketstar and a yowl of protest from Smokepaw, he slips out out of the den.

The excited energy of the camp proper hits him straight away. Rushfang’s ‘patrol’ has evidently returned, and Redkit, Bluekit, and Greenkit are gleefully parading themselves in a circle. 

“We’re not the newest anymore! We’re not the newest anymore!”

“Was  _ I _ like that?” a distressed Wakepaw asks Rushfang as Harestep wanders up to them.

“No,” says Rushfang, flicking one ear in greeting. “But Goosefire was. You were just too sick to hear him going on about it when you got here.”

“Don’t remind me,” mutters Harestep, unable to stop himself glancing at the medicine cat den every few seconds.

“It was certainly something,” Rushfang says. “You’re lucky you were out for it, if I’m being honest.”

It feels like an entire moon passes while they’re sitting there, Rushfang and Wakepaw chatting idly as they wait for Thicketstar to emerge. As dusk falls, Wakepaw’s recruited for something by Violetkit and Shadekit, and Rushfang eventually follows at a distance to keep an eye on their shenanigans. It’s almost dark and most of the clan is gathered around the fresh-kill pile, but Harestep hasn’t moved when Duskheart pads over silently to join him. 

“Why am I so worried about this,” mutters Harestep, “even though I know Thicketstar wanted him to join before he even said yes?”

“I was the same,” says Duskheart, surprising him. He hadn’t expected an answer. “With him,” the dark-furred tom clarifies, nodding to where Wildpath is laying, stretched out as much as he’s able in the fading sun. Harestep doesn’t turn, but he feels Duskheart’s warm gaze on him without having to. “Speaking of which… I’d bet anything you’re about to become a temporary mentor, actually.”

“About to-” He cuts himself off with a squeak of surprise as two dark shapes emerge from the medicine cat den. Duskheart snorts at his reaction, but follows just as eagerly as Harestep scrambles to his feet and bolts towards the Gathering Stump.

“FaronClan, let all cats be called to the Gathering Stump for a Clan Meeting!”

There’s really no need for Thicketstar to say anything, since just about everyone has assembled already, but Harestep gets the feeling that it gives him great pride to call the clan together and see them respond as one. The great dark tabby gives the clan a moment to settle down, then blinks warmly at them. 

“Around sunhigh today, a visitor came to our camp. I am very glad to announce that he will be joining FaronClan officially and immediately. It seems,” he adds over the yowls of excitement, a little more seriously, “that StarClan isn’t yet quite done sending promising new clanmates in our direction.”

“Harestep,” says Thicketstar, and, even though he’s expecting it, Harestep just about jumps out of his skin. Ears burning, he ignores his clanmates’ amused purrs and forces himself to stand at attention. He can see Traveler from this angle, looking just as tense, and they share an excited and anxious look before turning their attention back to their leader.

“You showed great compassion and initiative in your actions today. While he learns the territory and the Clan way of life, you will be our new warrior’s temporary mentor.”

He manages to stammer out a ‘thank you’ as the clan cheers his name obligingly, and Duskheart headbutts his shoulder lightly in congratulations as he sits down.

Thicketstar waits patiently for calm to settle over the clan. When all is still, he nods to Traveler, who steps forward nervously. The leader regards him warmly, then lifts his chin. 

“I, Thicketstar, leader of FaronClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this cat. He has committed himself to learning the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.

“Traveler, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to help FaronClan thrive and grow?

Harestep’s heart swells with pride as Traveler looks up, eyes reflecting starlight. “I do,” he says steadily.

“Then by the powers of StarClan,” says Thicketstar, “I give you your warrior name. From this moment on, you will be known as Hartfoot.” He meets Harestep’s startled gaze, eye gleaming with amusement. 

“FaronClan honors your courage and your resolve, and we welcome you as a full warrior...”

_ “Hartfoot! Hartfoot! Hartfoot!” _

“...Into our Clan, and into our family.”


End file.
